


Defenders of the Earth

by DroughtofApathy



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Constant Disparaging of their Super Secret Name, Corrupt Executive Branch, Dubious Morality, F/F, Government Conspiracy, Implied/Referenced Torture, Secret Organization, Systematic Assassination, Treason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 18:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DroughtofApathy/pseuds/DroughtofApathy
Summary: Over twenty years after they split up in a whirlwind of rage, a threat to the very roots of the country's democracy forces Sara Callis to assemble the old team once more. Twenty years older, twenty years wiser and, apparently, still just as likely to drive each other to the brink of insanity as before.Between Mars's sexual innuendos, Ida's bitterness, Angie's reluctance to harm a fly, Lavinia's casual sadism, and Astrid's short fuse, Sara Callis had her work cut out for her.But the Defenders of the Earth (a terrible name, everyone agreed) were the last hope for the great U.S. of A. What a scary thought indeed.





	Defenders of the Earth

Sara Callis had little confidence her call would be answered. Getting the band back together, she knew, could only end in disaster and emotional fallout. The last time all six of them stood in the same room, it culminated in a four-way screaming match laced with an entirely ineffective attempt at pacification. The team broke up and they all fanned out across the country to start their own stories, never to see each other again. Until, that was at least Callis hoped, tonight.

She turned the so-called beacon around in her palms. She’d invented the, quite frankly, rudimentary mechanism designed to summon the six of them together. Disguised as ordinary objects, only the six of them knew the true meanings of the codes. The odds of even one of them having their beacon after all these years, and especially after the fallout, looked monstrously low. But she had to try. After what she’d found out, she needed the band back together as soon as possible.

Callis entered the SOS, then bunkered down to wait, anxiously running her hands through her cropped hair. And, seven hours later, a scratching at the door alerted her to the first arrival. Opening the door, Callis nodded to a heavily disguised Ida Arnez. Pushing past the other woman, Ida held up her own beacon made up to look like a simple necklace.

“Callis,” she said in warning. “This had better be good. You know damn well I don’t do this sort of thing anymore.” Assuring Ida she had her reasons, Callis insisted she couldn’t say anything until they all managed to converge on the meeting place. She’d chosen a point relatively close to most of their locations. Only a few hours more.

Ida glared at her, opening her mouth to reply when she saw it. Or rather, her. Jorja Marsten, Mars as she preferred to go by, smirked at her from the countertop. Waggling her fingers, Mars leisurely slid off, swaggering over to the other two women.

“You’d think,” she said, flopping onto the couch. “That after all this time you’d know not to leave easily accessible or otherwise windows locked up. Never know what the cat might drag in, after all.” Callis cracked a smile.

“Maybe I left it open specifically for a certain curly-haired black cat I know,” she said, lightly pushing Mars’s feet off the stained coffee table and pulling her up. “Good to know you haven’t changed.” Ida glowered at them both. Could she seriously be the only one of the three who actually saw the utter ridiculousness of the situation?

“As I live and breathe. Ida Arnez, you get prettier every day.” Apparently so. Ida’s scowl deepened as she brushed Mars’s hand away harshly. Mars pouted, backing away to lean against the island table. Batting her eyelashes, Mars let her eyes trail suggestively down Ida’s body. Callis rolled her own eyes, telling them they should probably get some rest while they waited for the others to get her. If, of course, they came at all. She’d given herself twenty-four hours before moving on, with or without all six of them.

Smirking, Mars sauntered off to find herself a bedroom, grabbing her bag from the window ledge. Ida followed grudgingly, having a strange premonition that she’d have to share her room with the infuriating woman ahead of her. Mars, coming to the same conclusion, graciously allowed her to choose which bed she wanted. Not, mind you, that it really mattered. Both beds, dingy and comically small, made Ida’s skin crawl.

Ignoring Mars’s sultry wink, Ida laid down with as much dignity as she could muster. She kept her clothes and shoes on. Just in case. Thankfully, even Mars seemed to be too tired to do much more than make a half-hearted innuendo before rolling over and promptly falling asleep. She always could pass out at the drop of a hat.

Hours later, Ida sat up. On the other side of the room, Mars glanced warily at her. Angry voices wafted from down the hall. And even after all these years, they’d recognize them anywhere.

“…kidnap me from my own damn house!” Angie. Grinning, Mars bounded out of the room, Ida hot on her heels. There in the main room, Angie Dawes sat on an island stool with her hands zip tied together. She looked thoroughly frazzled, but still just as blonde and thin as she’d been the last time Ida saw her. So focused on Angie, Mars almost missed the woman standing in the shadows.

“Lavinia DeLaverie,” Mars said, lips splitting into a grin. “The woman, the myth, the legend. What little present have you brought me today?” Indignantly, Angie snapped that she’d been kidnapped, and wanted it known she only came under extreme duress. Also, zip ties and guns.

Casually threatening to re-tap her mouth, Lavinia explained that once she’d gotten the call, she went to collect the one who she thought needed a bit of persuading. Huffing, Angie snapped that no matter which way she sliced it, kidnapping still meant taking someone against their will.

“Oh, please,” Lavinia said. “Darling, by the time I got there, you had your bag half packed and your kids shipped off to your sister-in-law’s place. Now drop the damn victim act. It annoyed me back then, and it annoys me now. Shut up and let Callis explain why she decided to pull me from a perfectly good one-night-stand.” Sounding more than a little disgruntled, Ida explained that Callis refused to say anything until all six of them got together. Which meant they had to wait for-

“Me.” They all turned to the doorway to see the final member of their team. Astrid Gibson nodded at all of them, but had eyes for only one. She stood taller than any of the others. Paler too. But then, that came with the territory of red hair and Irish ancestry. Finally realizing she’d been staring for a moment too long, Astrid blinked, turning to face Callis with a slight blush on her cheeks.

Without taking her eyes off of the woman who’d just walked in, Lavinia cut Angie loose. For just a moment, her devil-may-care attitude vanished, and her breath hitched. No one spoke for the longest time, two of them too caught up in the sight of each other after all these years, the others unwilling to break the spell. Finally thought, Mars snapped her fingers under each of their noses, quipping that they could stop staring at their ex-girlfriends so they could get on with it.

“We’re not ex-girlfriends,” both women snapped simultaneously. Mars threw up her hands in mock surrender, knowing she’d touched a nerve, but too used to this sort of behavior to care. No, Lavinia and Astrid never managed to get it on, even if Mars thought it might have solved a whole host of issues the first time around. They’d danced around each other for years, and they didn’t technically constitute as ex-girlfriends, but they might as well have been.

Trying to change the subject, Callis suggested they wait until morning. Sleep deprived and anxious after having been kidnapped, they didn’t exactly look their best. Ida just glared at her. Her already low patience had reached its absolute limit.

“Anyway,” Callis said pointedly, directing the five women to the couches. Ida pulled a disgruntled Angie down next to her, effectively booting Mars aside. Mars sniffed, brushing it off as she sat on the other side of the couch. Astrid, still slightly distracted, settled on a lumpy armchair as Lavinia perched herself on the arm of said chair.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you all here,” she began earning a cackle from Mars and a slight quirk of the lips from Angie, but nothing more. “Tough crowd. Okay, fine. Here’s the deal. We need to get the squad back together, and return to our old ways. I know. I know.” She held her hands up placatingly as multiple protests filled the air.

The country needed them. Badly. See, whereas the rest of them moved on, Callis kept an eye on their work, carefully monitoring what she could after the fallout. After months of suspecting something seemed off, she’d gotten confirmation from an inside source.

“Look,” she said, seeing that she’d started to lose some of them. “There is currently a domestic terrorist group in our country whose aim is to literally overthrow the government. And yes, I know what we got going on right now isn’t exactly paradise, but these people have created a clandestine cell system. Every time one of their branches are cut off, it’s like two more grow back like some sort of bastardized version of Hydra from the comics. They’re on their way towards corrupting the entire government in ways we’ve never seen. Instead of just monetary corruption, we are talking about something akin to the next Third Riche.”

Astrid exhaled heavily, but posed the question on all of their minds. Why them? Why call together six women who haven’t been active in almost two decades? Surely the FBI could summon up a team of capable, on-the-books, people who could handle it.

But Callis shook her head. The roots ran far deeper than they knew, and no one in the government could be considered innocent. Callis had strong evidence that suggested not even the most senior of people were safe. Including…the vice-president herself. The others exchanged looks, beginning to come around.

“I know we no longer technically have any jurisdiction or power,” Callis continued. “But that’s the beauty of us. No one save for three people knew we ever existed when we first started. Not even the heads of the other Intelligence Agencies. Which means, no one knows we exist now. We are the only possible uncorrupted and non-infiltrated part of this country. We have a duty to take down this terrorist organization and expose everyone involved. My orders to reassemble the Defenders of the Earth – god I hate that name – comes from the top. The president himself suspects half his staff are either part of it, or complicit. Now, who’s in?”

Angie shook her head immediately. As horrible as it sounded, Callis just described an almost-certainly fatal mission. She had kids, she argued. She had three babies waiting at home for her, and they couldn’t afford to lose another parent. Not again. Besides, she couldn’t do what she used to. That’s part of the reason why she’d left the first time.

Ida seemed just as hesitant. After leaving the Defenders of the Earth – Jesus, what a horrible name – she’d actually decided to make a visible name for herself. Clawing her way through overt sexism and racism, she’d finally managed to slate herself for next in line to become Director of the FBI. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t be part of some off-the-grid organization with no backup, no rules. Just six people traipsing around taking care of the dirty work of the country. Besides, if Callis said no one in the government could be considered safe, what about her?

“Please,” Lavinia scoffed. “Not even all the money in the world and a night with Gillian Anderson herself could corrupt the great and anally rule-oriented Ida Arnez. And as for not wanting or not able to reform the Defenders of the Earth – fuck’s sake, it gets worse every damn time – that’s bullshit and you both know it. Why keep the beacons if you weren’t willing to do the job?” No one had an answer to that one. As caustic and tactlessly put, Lavinia had a point.

They all exchanged grudgingly accepting looks. Terrorist groups, government infiltration, and improbable risk, Great. Absolutely peachy. Once again Callis suggested they try to get some sleep before heading off tomorrow. They had a long road ahead of them. This time, no one argued.

Lavinia slid off the chair, heading for the bedrooms. As she passed the couch, she paused briefly to place a hand on Angie’s shoulder. Angie sighed, patting the offered hand. She knew it was the most she could expect in terms of an apology, and it was enough for her.

Astrid and Lavinia didn’t speak much as they climbed into their beds. Lavinia muttered something about it really being late and wanting to be awake for the official reunion. Both she and Astrid knew she hardly slept anyway, and three a.m. certainly didn’t constitute as late in her books. But, not wanting to have the inevitable conversation any more than Lavinia, Astrid didn’t push.

They left a few hours later just as the sun rose. Back to the capitol. Back to a life they thought ended years ago.

Which, unfortunately, meant back to living in an underground bunker with a shortage of beds, and an excess of dust, spiders, and all manner of potentially toxic molds. Honestly, you’d think an order from the president would mean an upgrade in habitation, but apparently not.

“This is impossible,” Angie groused. “We have no way of knowing who’s involved, and how many there are. Ten, twenty, one-hundred. We’re six people, and even if we knew half of them, taking everyone out without arousing suspicion isn’t…we just can’t.”

Time, Mars said, had certainly been harsh on their ray of sunshine. Angie clenched her jaw, before leaving in a huff. Mars watched her go, a quizzical expression on her face. But, shrugging it off, she turned to Ida.

“Well, at least time hasn’t dulled your charm, Arnez,” Mars said, cheekily trailing her hand down Ida’s forearm. Ida jerked away, harshly demanding that Mars stop fucking flirting with her. They were in the middle of a potential coup, for Christ’s sake. Now was not the time or place, and for that matter, no time seemed appropriate.

“I’m sick and tired of your damn comments. It’s been ten hours and I already remember vividly why we all broke up last time. Just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean you can just casually sexually harass me whenever you feel like it. When I want you to flirt with me I’ll tell you, damn it.”

Mars looked stricken for a fraction of a second before smoothing her features back into her blasé attitude. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.” And she swiftly rose from the couch to reperch herself on the countertop. Both Astrid and Lavinia chose to ignore Ida’s outburst. They knew this game well. Sometimes, a group of skilled people got together and formed a tight-knit family. Sometimes they were just assholes.

Ida shook her head, simmering. She’d been pouring over case files of what little they had, and still, she had to agree with Angie on this one. Their only lead…well, she’d been part of the Presidential Cabinet until her death. Officially. Unofficially, she was now being held in some non-existent Area 51 type base in bumfuck nowhere. They had the coordinates, curtesy of the leader of the free world, but couldn’t exactly waltz in to question her.

“I don’t see why we can’t do just that,” Lavinia said. Both Ida and Astrid, who stood in the doorway, stared at her in disbelief. Lavinia shrugged, holding up a finger as she murmured under her breath. Astrid rolled her eyes, going to poke around in the mini fridge. Lavinia usually took a while to formulate a coherent plan that may or may not have included copious death.

“Right,” Lavinia said, standing up. Astrid straightened, not expecting her to speak so soon. “Angie, Callis. Get in here, because I’ve got a little plan. Still need to work out the kinks, but say we find ourselves a body double for our little friend here. We break into the holding facility, kidnap the lead, leave a dead body behind. They’ll assume she’s committed suicide, and in the time it takes for a DNA test to be done, we’ll be out of dodge already. We take our prize somewhere nice and remote, and ‘persuade’ her to do some talking. It’s a start.”

Callis chewed on her lip, mulling it over. It…could work, honestly. Easier said than done, of course, but not impossible. A start, like Lavinia said. Three hours later, they packed up to head out to bumfuck Arkansas in some gutted-out van with Callis’s computers and machinery taking up most of the room.

Ida slid into the driver’s seat just as Mars buckled into shotgun. They hadn’t even thought to do anything different, old habits evidently dying harder than they thought. Awkwardly avoiding eye contact, Mars pulled up Callis’s tricked out GPS system.

Strapped in behind them, Lavinia and Astrid studied the layout of the supposedly-secret base while Angie worked as Callis’s second pair of hands at the computers. Locating a woman who bore a striking resemblance to their mark, Callis directed Ida to head north towards Pennsylvania first. They had an innocent woman to kidnap.

Angie winced. The merciless killing made her skin crawl. And she wasn’t the meek and mild twenty something anymore. At forty-five, she couldn’t do what she’d done in the past. Callis squeezed her arm, looking at her with sympathy. None of them, she reassured the blonde, would ever force her to kill an innocent in cold blood. But Angie shook her head. She’d still have to be complicit no matter how they drew it.

“It’s one life,” Lavinia said over her shoulder. “If we don’t destroy this organization, a hell of a lot more people will die. You haven’t read the case files or the one page of manifesto they managed to recover from a fire. It’s not a pretty sight, Ang. I have no issue slaughtering this human if it means getting my hands on our little friend.” Angie didn’t respond, but didn’t raise up any more protests either.

They drove in silence mostly. Somewhere in Tennessee, the others started dozing. Mars, glancing in the review mirror, took a steadying breath.

“Ida,” she began. “I just, um, wanted to- to apologize. I never meant to make you uncomfortable, and now that I know I have, I’m sorry. I’ll to my best to not be so…blatant with my affections. Are we- are we okay?” Ida, though startled, didn’t want to do anything to disrupt this tentative truce.

“We’re okay,” Ida agreed. “And um, for my part, I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. I don’t really mind usually. I suppose you can keep…um, right. Just, perhaps not at the times you do.” Slowly, Mars smiled, giving Ida a wink. Stifling a smile, Ida focused on the road ahead.

Kidnapping a woman off a semi-busy street in broad daylight. Simple enough. Forgoing their usual sophisticated scheming that tended to call on every last ounce of acting ability, they instead opted for a simple grab-and-go.

Positioned on the porch of a deserted store, Mars cupped a cigarette in one hand, hiding a dart gun in the other. In her ear, Callis told her their mark was up ahead. Mars’s eyes flickered down the street. Man in overalls, smoking a pipe. Too absorbed in his newspaper to notice anything. A few teens hanging around a truck. Too stoned to care. A woman ushering her kids into a car. No one looked this way.

Mars waited for the mark to cross half of the alleyway before shooting. The dart caught her in the throat as expected. Mars rarely ever missed her mark. Tucking the gun back into her jacket pocket, Mars stomped out her cigarette and turned away from the woman. She didn’t bother to watch as she stumbled, gasping. From the startled yelp that quickly cut off, she knew Astrid and Ida had pulled her back into the shadows.

They picked Mars up at the end of the block. Inside the van, the woman lay trussed up and unconscious. They had to keep her alive until they managed to break their mark out of her cell. Once there, they’d hang her. Best to keep time and cause of death as realistic as possible.

Angie checked her vitals, gritting her teeth. Doing her best to hide the small puncture wound, she dabbed a bit of antiseptic on it. They kept the woman knocked out for the duration of the trip, debating whether or not to ever allow her to regain consciousness.

“I can carry her if we don’t,” Astrid said confidently. “Dead weight won’t make it easy, but it might be better than forcing a nonconsenting woman to follow us into hell. After all, we have no idea what this woman is like. She might be the type of person to put up a fight.”

They left Callis and Angie to be their eyes in the sky, and, with an unconscious woman slung across Astrid’s back, they walked into hell.

In the twenty some odd years, Callis dramatically upgraded her tech, allowing the four women to easily break into the base. Secret codes could be broken in a few seconds flat, and Callis could even gain access to the security cameras, looping feeds and watching for guards. Something that, allegedly, was impossible to do. Well, Callis never did follow rules well. With actual sight on the inside, she effortlessly directed the two women to the proper cell, unlocking it remotely. They had approximately twelve minutes.

“Don’t scream,” Lavinia warned, pointing a gun at their mark’s head. “Barbara Hellmen, we’re here to break you out. Ida, tie those bedsheets together.” After a moment of dumfounded silence, Hellmen began stripping off her clothes and putting on the other woman’s. They made short work of stringing her up.

Mars sent the others ahead while she waited for the woman to die. They didn’t all need to witness what happened to a hanged woman…again. She emerged from the secret bunker just a few minutes behind the others, jumping into the van.

“Bad time?” she inquired pleasantly, seeing that Hellmen had wrestled a gun from Angie and now stood with the weapon pointed directly at a nonplussed Lavinia. The smaller woman shrugged, easily plucking the gun from the woman’s grip. Smirking, she gloatingly said that the blonde never carried loaded weapons, and now that she’d displayed hostile intent, they could drop the act.

“Buckle up, sweetcakes,” she grinned, reeling back unexpectedly and knocking Hellmen out cold. “This ain’t going to be no summer vacation in the Catskills.”

Callis’s computer found them a safe house in the middle of nowhere, and within a few hours, they’d set up shop in a small and dingy cabin in the woods. Ida and Mars took the first crack at her. They didn’t expect Hellmen to crack with them, but didn’t want her to become too used to the more…zealous methods of Lavinia too soon.

Astrid and Lavinia began sorting through Callis’s weapons collection, dismayed to find she’d gotten rid of most of their arsenal from before. Holding up a sharp metal instrument of unknown usage, Lavinia shrugged. She’d find something to do with it. Creativity won half the battle.

As they waited, Callis typed away on her laptop per Lavinia’s request. Before long, Ida and Mars emerged shaking their heads. Angie immediately reached for a med kit, ready to treat bruised knuckles and the like. Shrugging, Mars said the woman hadn’t so much as groaned. Lavinia and Astrid exchanged glances, hefting their chosen tools of the trade.

“Remind me to pick up some power drills for next time,” Lavinia said entering the torture chamber. She tossed her things aside, turning to the woman zip tied to a chair. “As for you, I think you’ll find those other two a day at the spa compared to us. Now, you already know what we want. So, talk, or we can begin the fun.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting. Hellmen didn’t respond as expected. Shrugging, Lavinia surged forward onto the other woman’s lap. She slowly trailed a dangerously sharp knife down her neck, licking away the beads of blood that rose up.

That unnerved Hellmen more than anything the other two women had done. She tensed, waiting. Lavinia nodded to Astrid who swiftly sliced through Hellmen’s ties. Sliding off her lap, Lavinia pulled the other woman up, easily throwing her to the floor. Hellmen grunted, rolling onto her back as Lavinia straddled her abdomen, and Astrid held down her legs. With a maniacal gleam in her eye, Lavinia began cutting away Hellmen’s clothing. She knew exactly how to make someone scream.

Back in the other room, Angie tried to block out the bloodcurdling screams from inside. Even Mars looked a little uneasy as she listened to the commotion. She could hear Astrid demanding answers in her loud voice, and Lavinia taunting her in her softer one.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Angie declared, pushing off the couch to get as far away as she safely could. After a moment, Ida went after her. Callis retreated to her van to print a few things, leaving Mars to shove headphones on to drown out the horrible noises. She could easily shoot down dozens of people in a hail of gunfire, and even personally torture someone, but listening to someone else’s work – Lavinia and Astrid’s especially – stretched things too far.

She didn’t know how long they kept it up, but long after Callis returned with a Manilla envelope the door finally opened. Lavinia and Astrid emerged, clothing smudged with faint bloodstains. Astrid shook her head, dropping something that looked vaguely like nipple clamps onto the table.

“Got what you wanted,” Callis said, handing over the envelope. Murmuring her thanks, Lavinia grabbed a bottle of water and sank onto the floor. Astrid ran a hand through her hair in frustration. After taking a moment to collect themselves, the two women reentered.

“I commend you,” Astrid said, folding her arms and looking down at the naked and whimpering woman. “All that and you refused to say a word. You brought this next bit on yourself, hon. Vin, you’re up.”

“My pleasure,” Lavinia said, smirking. She jerked the woman up, forcing her back into the chair. Tearing open the envelope, she pulled out Callis’s information. “So, Ms. Hellmen, you joined your little terrorist group two years ago. Why not? They offered you true power in their bastardized government, and getting caught meant nothing to you. Why should it when you shipped the only two people who mattered to you off to Canada. Oh, yes, that’s right. We know exactly where your little kiddies are. So, darling. Either you tell us everything you know, or I’ll. Hunt. Them. Down.

Oh, that got you. Yes, Barbara. You know exactly what I am capable of, and we’re not above torturing little children to get what we need. I will bring your brats to this fucking hellhole, and slowly skin them alive while you sit there and watch. And I’m going to make it perfectly clear to them that everything I do is because Mommy wouldn’t tell me a secret. And when you do talk, I’m going to leave them alive. They’ll spend the rest of their lives knowing you let them suffer. Now talk.”

Later, with Ida and Angie back in the sitting room, Lavinia and Astrid exited, looking exhausted. Astrid held up a sheet of paper. Hellmen had talked just like they knew she would. Now she needed medical treatment. Lavinia didn’t say anything, instead trooping down the hall to the bathroom. She could still faintly taste the woman’s blood in her mouth. Astrid followed.

She closed the door behind them, turning aside as Lavinia stripped off her bloodied clothes to take her own off. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen and been seen by Lavinia before, but twenty years still meant twenty years. Lavinia stepped under the shower spray, finally letting her guard down. She groaned tiredly, wiping at her eyes.

Astrid joined her, grabbing a bar of soap. They ignored each other as they scrubbed any traces of the other woman off their skin. Neither felt particularly proud of their actions, but had to do what they had to do.

Lavinia broke first, sliding down the shower wall. As Astrid watched the smaller woman curl in on herself, tears prickling at her eyes, she felt any fight she had in her collapse. Slumping next to her, Astrid choked down a sob.

It was inevitable really. Not just because of the mutually felt pain and guilt over the current situation, but years of pent up tensions as well. Needing to feel something other than self-disgust, Lavinia cupped Astrid’s face, drawing her closer. Astrid gasped, wrapping her arms around the slippery wet woman, pulling her down on top of her. Groaning, the two women slowly gyrated against each other, trying to drown out the pain. They had to do _something_ to keep from thinking of the carnage they left behind.

Finally, forced up due to frigid water, the two women hurriedly dried themselves off, anxious to continue things on a more comfortable surface. Darting into one of the bedrooms, Astrid easily picked Lavinia up, carrying her to the bed, and gently pressed her onto the mattress. They groaned, frantically pulling each other closer. Astrid could still feel tears trailing down her cheeks, but couldn’t bear to stop. If she stopped, reality would set in. Lavinia, experiencing the same crushing desire to lose herself in this, grunted as she flipped the taller woman over.

Back outside, Ida pressed a tired hand to her eyes. After seeing the state the others left Hellmen in, she just wanted to put the entire thing behind her. Angie, still trembling slightly, read over Astrid’s paper that listed twenty people part of the organization. She exhaled heavily, knowing they’d need to take out each and every one of them and quietly. If word got out about a terrorist organization that could have recruited anyone in the US government, they’d have the second great McCarthy era on their hands, and no one wanted that. Not again.

Exhausted, she headed for the bedroom. Opening the door, she let out an involuntary scream, causing the other three women to come running. Startled, Lavinia and Astrid sprang apart, yanking the blankets over themselves.

“I hear knocking’s a fun custom,” Lavinia snapped. “Try it sometime.” Beside her, Astrid turned red with embarrassment at having been caught.

“Oh. My. God.” Ida threw up her hands in exasperation. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with the two of you? I mean, you just tortured someone. More than that, you _raped_ her! And now, what? You’re all hot and bothered by it so you decided to have a little fuckfest now? You cannot seriously be that fucking messed-” she stopped, finally taking in the tear stained faces and reddened eyes. “Oh. Oh…shit. Oh, chicas.”

Deciding they’d already seen enough, Ida ventured into the room, settling at the foot of the bed. She placed an apologetic hand on Astrid’s arm. Astrid didn’t pull away, signaling she didn’t take offense to Ida’s outburst. Curling up against Lavinia, Astrid murmured that they just didn’t want to have to think about what happened for just a little while.

“We don’t get off on torture,” Lavinia said quietly. “It’d be easier if we enjoyed it, but we don’t. It’s awful, really.” The other three, glancing at each other, filed into the room, Angie and Callis sinking onto the other bed, Mars leaning against the closed door. Tilting her head, she asked if they used this coping method in the past.

“No, no,” Astrid said, shaking her head. “It just happened. I don’t know, I think it’s been a long time coming.” She looked at Lavinia hesitantly. Lavinia smiled slightly, resting her head on Astrid’s shoulder. Then, remembering she and Lavinia were completely naked and also still slightly wet…from the shower, Astrid slid to the floor to scoop up their clothes, still pressing the sheet to her chest.

Politely looking away, Callis told them they needed to head out tomorrow morning. They needed to decide now if Barbara Hellmen got to live or die. Flatly, Lavinia voted for killing, saying it would be a mercy after what she did to her.

Angie just looked at them both. All those years she’d thought Astrid loved and relished in the horrific mutilation of marks. All this time and she believed Lavinia embodied a sadistic monster. This new revelation, well, it didn’t excuse their actions, but Angie supposed being remorseful meant something at the end of the day.

They left at first light. Mars took care of the body with Callis, effectively destroying most of the potential identification markers. Just before leaving, they torched the place, destroying evidence.

As Ida charted a course for Texas to pay a visit to the Assistant Senate Majority leader, Callis pulled up the nineteen other names Hellmen gave them. They couldn’t possibly dispose of everyone at once, and inevitably innocents had to perish along with them. The man from Texas made things easy. Texas loved its guns, so capitalizing on that they plotted a simple shootout with an errant bullet. Once the Texans inevitably drew their own guns, triggering a multi-way fight, they’d slip away.

At first, Mars offered herself up as one half of the duel. She did have the best aim out of the lot, guaranteeing the death of their first mark. Lavinia just looked at her, shaking her head. A black woman in Texas, she said pointedly. Mars huffed, recognizing the major flaw. If she started anything her entire race would pay for it.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Callis,” Astrid said, cracking her neck. “We’ll take the van and Angie. You three split off once we can locate another car and head for Louisiana. We need to take out another as soon as we can.”

“Astrid,” Lavinia said, pulling her aside. “Be careful.

With seven people on the list outside the DC area, they had to hustle. Playing the long game, in this case, meant danger. Five of the people on the list made up the president’s own cabinet and trusted staff. They could take him out at any time, making way for the VP to swoop in.

None of them still quite understood how the organization expected to take over. The rest of the government couldn’t exactly fall. Although, now that Lavinia thought about it, if they managed to enact some sort of McCarthyism mixed with fear mongering and an unhealthy distrust in the media as well as fact…okay, entirely possible.

Snagging a car from a used lot, Ida, Mars, and Lavinia road out to Louisiana. Why, Ida wondered, they’d somehow stuck all the women of color together and thought they’d survive in the bayous, was beyond her.

“Let’s just feed him to the alligators,” Lavinia muttered darkly. After yesterday’s feeling fest, she was itching to punch something. Just because she didn’t like extreme torture for extended periods of time didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the lighter aspects of the job. A bit of power drilling, a little unnecessary violence, and just a drop of desperate victim begging. That she could have fun with.

They watched the riverboat ride leisurely cut through the dangerous waters. Nothing but blue skies and calm waters. Not for long. Seven people on the boat. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Later, the newspapers declared it a motor malfunction. A tragic accident that pitched an entire boat of people into alligator infested waters. No survivors. The story got buried under the news of a shootout in La Grange, Texas. The facts of its origin were lost in the retellings. All they knew was that after a disagreement between two people, shots rang out, and everyone got in on the action. Nine fatalities before the riot could be calmed.

“Nice work,” Ida commented once they regrouped in Virginia. “None of you even got shot, so color me impressed.” Callis waved her off. The mark almost got away. Callis could only manage to nail him in the hip. Not immediately fatal, and he’d have survived with proper medical treatment. It was Angie who took him out permanently. Mars nodded at her, impressed.

Angie rolled her eyes. They all seemed to conveniently forget, she muttered, that she didn’t just patch everyone up after the battle. She’d been part of the Defenders of the Earth – okay, seriously, who came up with that? – because she knew how to handle herself.

“Whatever you may think,” Angie said. “I’m not some fairy princess just because I prefer to kill people cleanly and humanely. I am capable of doing this job. I passed the damn entrance tests too, and you’d all do well to remember that. There’s more than one way to do things, alright? If I have to conform, then did I ever really belong here in the first place?”

“You’re right,” Astrid said, squeezing Angie’s shoulder. “We forget sometimes. Won’t happen again. Now, two down. We still have four others outside of the capitol, and twelve in. Killing them off one by one isn’t going to work much longer. We need to split up the band again.”

Four more marks, four women out on the field and two on watchdog. None of them liked the idea of going in alone, not even the wildly independent Lavinia. No backup aside from a voice in their ear. No one to help should reality be too much to handle alone.

Ida took the high road. She knew too many deaths would raise suspicion. They’d all stewed over it enough. Instead, she rigged a lottery drawing to net a certain representative member more money than he could even fathom. She knew how easy his kind made it to divert motives and change minds with a bit of cash.

The representative, after acquiring his impressive windfall, immediately retired from his job, leaving his seat open to, what Ida could only assume would be a dramatic bid to replace him, and promptly jetted off to Europe with his family in tow. Angie, glad to have found a solution that didn’t involve any extraneous murder, didn’t complain. Granted she didn’t approve of just handing a disgusting amount of money to the likes of someone in a terrorist organization, but pick your battles, you know.

Mars, as much as she’d rather go in guns blazing, decided instead on a subtler method. She didn’t kill her mark. But she may as well have. The mark smoked. He’d have died eventually of cancer or stroke or whatever, but Mars didn’t have that sort of time. In the end, he went down easily. She suspected he’d have gotten there by himself anyway.

Lacing his cigarettes with more…addictive substances couldn’t have been easier. Before long, cigarettes bought without Mars’s meddling just wouldn’t cut it. Unaware he’d been inadvertently turned on to drugs, he began to grow desperate. Desperate enough to seek out that next hit. And when he did, Mars was right there to help him.

“Look like you could use a little pick-me-up,” Mars said, heavily disguised in an abandoned warehouse. The mark twitched, not speaking. “I can satisfy your little craving, old man. Let me guess. I’ve got weed all rolled up. Or maybe you want a little trip. I’ve got it all. Maybe you’re looking for some stronger stuff, old man. A little white sugar for your peace of mind. Maybe wanna shoot up in an alleyway like all the kids these days. Come on, old man. How long’s it been since a stuffy old geezer like you had a taste of the promised land? A little fun ain’t no sin. That’s it. Straight line. First hit on me.”

Cracking, he seized the proffered baggie and almost feverishly took that first hit. Mars grinned sinisterly. That’s all it took. Mars knew that all too well. The man trembled in relief. Groaning, he harshly demanded that no one ever know.

“Oh, don’t worry, old man,” Mars said, turning to leave. “What the people don’t know won’t hurt them.” By the end of the week, the once great general was no better than the lowliest of druggies. Mars made sure of it. Even if he ever got clean, he’d never be the same. And never be any help to the organization.

Astrid’s mark, given her apparent status in the organization and tenacity, meant the tall redhead didn’t want to risk leaving her alive. She couldn’t stage another accident. She couldn’t stage a murder. And they’d already staged a suicide. Astrid couldn’t just reuse an old strategy. Callis, just rolled her eyes at the dramatics of it all. Yes, Astrid very well _could_. Don’t fix what ain’t broken, after all.

So, after griping about stale methods, Astrid gathered up her supplies. A shiny new gun, a few bits and bobs purchased at multiple locations, and a nice bath towel that could have adequately covered the likes of Lavinia, but certainly not the nearly six-foot Astrid. Callis directed her to an apartment just down the hall from the mark. The tenants, away on vacation, certainly didn’t need it. A young couple, the girlfriend a tall redhead. Perfect.

She’d broken in earlier, hiding her loot in the mark’s apartment. All she had to do now was wait until Callis gave her the signal. After getting the go-ahead, Astrid stripped off her clothes, and stepped into the shower. Then, wrapped in just that little bath towel, the woman stepped out and into the hall. Uneasy with her lack of clothing, even knowing Callis had control of the security cameras, Astrid had to take several steadying breaths before beginning to work herself up into a tearful mess.

“What the-” the mark opened her door to see a shivering, barely covered woman in tears.

“P-please,” Astrid begged, breath hitching as she tried to contain her tears. “M-my boyfriend. We had a fight, and- he threw me out! I don’t-I don’t know what to do.” Quickly, the mark ushered the petrified woman inside. Sniffling, Astrid shakily apologized for tracking water everywhere. The woman, though thoroughly perplexed, told her to wait while she found her something to change into.

Astrid didn’t drop her act even as the woman rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. She didn’t need to act to feel slightly mortified, and her blush came readily. The mark returned, handing her a bundle of clothing and directing her to the bathroom.

By the time she emerged, feeling better dressed, the woman had poured her a glass of white wine, and offered her a phone. Astrid called Callis, knowing she wouldn’t answer. Looking only slightly put out, the woman offered her the couch for the night, making it clear tomorrow she’d have to be gone.

Astrid waited until the woman had a few glasses of white – and one shot of something stronger – in her before slipping off to the bathroom once more. Locking the door, Astrid pulled out her bag of tricks, quickly changing out of her borrowed clothes and into her practical black ones. She pulled out her gun, and stormed into the main room.

“Alright, sweetie pie,” Astrid said, her voice returning to her deeper growl. “You and I are going to have a little fun. So, honey. Take out one of your fancy stationary sets. You’ve got a little suicide note to write.” Of course, the mark refused, but after a little…persuading, she shakily did as Astrid requested. Then, walking the mark up to the rooftop, she forced her onto the ledge. The police found her with alcohol in her blood, and a note on her kitchen table. A tragic suicide brought on by stress and possible depression. No trace of a redhead woman running about in a towel could be found on the security footage.

Lavinia, despite Callis’s strong objection, went dark just after receiving the location of her mark. A week later, she resurfaced with a heavy expression on her face, and an institutionalized mark. Angie started at her when she climbed in the van.

“I thought…” she trailed off, unsure. Lavinia just scoffed. Just because, she dismissively said, she didn’t get off on extended torture did not mean she wouldn’t do it again and again. Whatever she felt, it remained irrelevant to the task at hand. They needed to be rid of the mark, and she did just that. She knew she’d get hers coming soon enough.

Heavily, she sank into her seat, leaning against Astrid’s shoulder. They didn’t say anything to each other. They didn’t need to. Callis, taking in the state of her team, pulled into a nondescript motel for the night. She wondered when the last time any of them slept – truly slept – really was. She ended up splurging on three rooms, giving Astrid and Lavinia the privacy they probably needed, and Ida and Mars the close quarters they probably could use. As for her and Angie, well, they fell asleep before their heads even hit the pillows.

“Jesus Christ,” Ida groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill them slowly and painfully.” Mars chuckled, lightly banging on the wall behind the bed. Next door, the two lovebirds had decided sex seemed a better option than sleep. And as much as Mars got a kick out of hearing the tough and powerful Astrid Gibson whimper and plead, she really needed to sleep. Grabbing her earphones, she threw on some soothing jazz and promptly passed out.

Ida, not having that option, banged a little harder on the wall. The faint moans and loud bedsprings quieted down. Placating herself by plotting their deaths, Ida rolled over, succumbing to exhaustion.

On the other side of the wall, Lavinia lay curled up, Astrid’s long body wrapped around her. She usually hated being cocooned in like this, finding it stifling. But in Astrid’s arms, she…well, she felt safe. Or, well, not safe exactly, but safer than she usually felt. And that said something.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Astrid asked quietly. Lavinia exhaled heavily. Then compelled to say _something_ , even though the last thing she wanted was to share what she’d done with anyone else, she started talking.

Haltingly, reluctantly, she told Astrid of how she drove a woman insane. Sparing the most gruesome and explicit details, she spoke of the music. Lavinia chose a song. A song she loved from some obscure song cycle musical with some ungodly featured vocals. And she played it over and over again for the mark until just hearing the opening chords sent her screaming.

Lavinia didn’t do anything to the woman that would leave any lasting physical damage. Not that she didn’t have every capability of tearing her apart, but because leaving bruises and wounds led to questions. And she kept it up for five days. The woman took five days to break. There was never any question as to whether or not Lavinia would manage it. The woman would break eventually.

“And she did,” Lavinia said, beginning to nod off. “And that’s it. And I live with it because I have to. Because I can. The others, they couldn’t do what I do.” She listened to Astrid’s steady breathing, and felt her constant heartbeat, finally able to fully succumb to the darkness.

Astrid woke to a cooling bed and the sound of the shower running. She rolled over, fumbling on the nightstand for her glasses. Sighing, she examined herself in the dingy mirror, pressing her thumb over the marks Lavinia left in her wake. Turning at the sound of the bathroom door opening, Astrid momentarily stopped breathing. She’d seen Lavinia naked before, obviously, but hot damn.

“Sorry I took all the hot water,” Lavinia said, winking in Astrid’s direction and jolting her out of her reverie. “Although, you might need a cold shower to get rid of that pretty blush of yours.” Astrid scoffed, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. She’d been worried, though she’d never admit it, that after finally working out their sexual tension, Lavinia would pull away, or…

Astrid shut the bathroom door, mentally smacking herself on the forehead. Jesus Christ, she was such a lesbian. One night of passion, and now she wanted something more. Turning on the shower with more force than strictly necessary, Astrid harshly reminded herself that they had a job to do. A fucking terrorist organization infiltration of the government for fuck’s sake. They had bigger fish to fry than her and Lavinia’s relationship status.

They piled into the van just after daybreak. With all their marks in one single city, Callis proposed taking them out all at once. A timely bomb – which Ida immediately vetoed on the grounds of national security – or a derailed subway – too many other casualties, insisted Angie – or…

“Or, because they’re the last ones – according to our little friend-” Lavinia piped in – “we just send them all invites to a fundraiser or something, and then plug their skulls with bullets before handing it over to the official government departments to cover up. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Just straight murder. The only straight thing about us.”

“I’ll start typing up the invites,” Callis said, turning to her laptop. The others exchanged looks. That’s what they did best. They took care of the dirty work and let the government on official taxable payroll clean up their mess. Astrid threw up her hands in acceptance, settling in for the ride. Mars programed the GPS system, already plugged into her jazz music. Lavinia polished her guns, looking forward to a mass shooting as much as any woman with a knack for compartmentalizing.

They rolled into the nation’s capital just before noon. Callis, with a little help from the President of the damn country, sent out an invitation to the eleven marks – minus the Vice President – that appeared to be a fundraiser, but would be interpreted as a call to arms, so to speak.

The only question that remained was whether or not to extend the marks the curtesy of giving them a fighting chance. Or at least a word of warning before the Defenders of the Earth – god, were they five when they came up with it? – put bullets in their head. Lavinia voted for simply mowing them down like the roaches they were. Otherwise, it would most likely devolve into some hero-villain showdown coupled with dramatic monologuing and untimely interruptions with little actual death. And Lavinia wanted to spill blood.

The President requested they meet with his Veep separately. Apparently, he still had hope he might be able to bring her back to the side of the light, or some such nonsense. Even Angie didn’t think he’d manage it, and when their most optimistic team member thought something seemed too far-fetched, it didn’t bode well.

Perched on top of a cabinet, Lavinia surveyed the high-security room where almost a dozen murders took place. She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. All she had was an arsenal of weapons up her metaphorical sleeves, and a conscience that wouldn’t kick in until the deed had been done. Unwittingly, her eyes strayed to the closet Astrid intended to burst out of. Coming out jokes aside, Lavinia couldn’t help wanting her to stay in that room. Stay safe, for once. She knew, of course, Astrid would never sit on the sidelines of a fight. Not when the fun was due through the front door in just a few short- ah, right on time.

Shoot first, ask questions later. Somehow, stupidly, none of them – despite expositioning every possible outcome – stopped to consider their marks wouldn’t go down without a fight. The others hadn’t.

Bullets, wildly shot, whizzed around the room. Practically a sitting duck on the top of the cabinet, Lavinia scurried down, taking cover behind a desk. The Defenders had the upper hand. These people, terrorist organization or not, couldn’t hold a candle to their opponent’s skills with weaponry. Mars cut through the haze, never missing her mark. Ida grappled with the head of the FBI himself, finally slicing her boss’s throat clean through. Callis, their esteemed leader who never quite gave up on them, proved she could do more than sit behind some computer decades ahead of its time. Astrid, with strength and dexterity, managed to wrestle a two-hundred-pound senator away from Angie, strangling his meaty neck with her bare hands. Angie, with bones even more brittle than they were twenty years ago, still demonstrated exactly why she was a Defender of the Earth. Because shitty name or not, she took pride in her work.

“No one move!” the last of the marks left wrestled a livid Mars to the ground. Seizing one of Mars’s many spare firearms from her person, she shoved the barrel into the back of Mars’s head.

“Drop the gun,” Ida ordered, as the rest of the team surrounded the mark. “Give it up, traitor. Your boss is done, and so are you. The President gave us the orders to take you out. Now, it can be alive or dead. Drop the gun, or I swear I will _burn you_ _to the fucking ground_ if you shoot her. Let. Jorja. Go _!_ ”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” the mark screamed hysterically. “He promised! He promised! He wouldn’t order this. Unless…no, no! What did he tell you?!?” Harshly, Ida demanded she explain just what the hell she meant. But the mark just laughed maniacally. They didn’t know, she laughed. They didn’t know they had the wrong one. “You’re all fools. Fools for trusting- ah!”

“None of this black girl dies first bullshit,” Mars growled, shoving the corpse off of her. Nearly collapsing with relief, Ida pulled her up and away.

“What the hell did she mean?” Astrid asked. “What do we have wrong? Callis, what do we have wrong?” Callis shook her head, frantically typing on her keyboard. Muttering under her breath, she scanned every surveillance camera and shadow she could to no avail. The Vice President kidnapped the President. Shit.

With their only source who could authorize the coverup of a mass murder kidnapped, no one could do anything until the crime scene had been properly concealed. Hours later, the six exhausted women stumbled into their van. Callis managed to activate a tracking chip the President wore. Shockingly enough, no word of the kidnapping got out to the public. Not even the secret service seemed to know of anything amiss.

No one quite knew how they managed it, but somehow or other they tracked their final mark down to, of all places, an underground dungeon.

“It’s _not_ a dungeon,” Ida corrected, rolling her eyes. Mars scoffed. Underground, creepy lighting, and the very real possibility of chained up skeletons? Yeah, as she said; dungeon.

“Hey, Thelma, Louise, pipe down. We’re almost there,” Lavinia said. Callis held out her portable tracking...whatever it was…in front of her, pointing to a nondescript wooden door. She looked at Astrid expectantly. Astrid gave her an incredulous look right back. Then, throwing her hands up in surrender, Astrid reared back and kicked the wood down. Lavinia tried not to look too impressed, though by the smirks on Mars and Ida’s faces, she didn’t do a very good job.

“So nice of you to join me, Ms. Callis.” A disembodied voice echoed across the room. At the center sat a large screen TV replaying the grizzly massacre of earlier that morning. Warily, the six women entered the room, tensing. This screamed sketchy, and less brave – though some would say pigheaded – people might have turned tail and ran. They didn’t. They never did. Well, save for that one time.

“Anyone else have the strange suspicion we’ve been played for idiots?” Lavinia asked, drawing her gun. The others nodded. A soft thumping drew their attentions to the corner of the room where a casket subtly scratched against the floor.

Lavinia approached it cautiously, nodding for Astrid to follow. She wrenched open the top, pointing her gun directly inside before stopping entirely. There, trussed up like a hog lay the Vice President, Betty Jane Andrews, looking confused, more than a little terrified, and just a tad bit furious.

Quickly, Lavinia and Astrid managed to get her up and out of the casket that looked to be made for a child. Shakily, she stared at the screen, taking in the carnage for the first time. The other women warily looked at each other, unsure how she’d react. At first glance, it looked as though they were the bad guys. And really, who’s to say they weren’t?

“You’re not the head of any terrorist organization,” Lavinia said. It was not a question. They’d been had. Andrews shook her head, not tearing her eyes from the screen. “Right, I think I know who is.”

Callis exhaled heavily, squatting on the floor. After a moment of reflection, she stood up once more, lifting her chin angrily. “Fine. Mr. _President_ , care to share with us just what the fuck this is about? You came to me. You _begged_ me!” Angie laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, cringing at the venom in her voice.

The disembodied voice being piped out from a speaker just laughed coldly before another door opened, and the President of the United States stepped out. Laughing, he told the Defenders not to bother with their little guns. Jammed barrels rarely helped anyone wanting to squeeze off a round. Growling in anger, Astrid tossed her useless weapon to the side, trying another with the same discouraging results.

The President drew his own gun. One entirely overkill, thought Ida. Grinning wickedly at his captives, he beckoned Andrews forward. She went reluctantly, glaring daggers at a man she thought to be her colleague if not friend. The President stroked his chin, pretending to mull it over. Well, he mused, he supposed it didn’t matter if he divulged a bit of his plan to them. After all, it was too genius not to, and they’d be dead soon enough anyway.

Callis’s heart sank. She glanced at her fellow Defenders in despair. She’d done this. She’d brought them out of retirement, out of their lives for this. She’d blindly trusted the word of a man without any hesitation. Something she vowed never to do. She may as well have pulled the trigger herself. But though each of the others, from Lavinia to Angie, looked both murderous and mutinous, not one of them turned their glares towards Sara Callis. She led them like wolves to the slaughter, but none of them blamed her in the slightest. Not when the man to blame stood before them.

“This country needs cleansing,” the President boomed, laughing cruelly. At that, Mars and Lavinia shared an eyeroll. Of course. “I created this organization from the ground up. It got me this seat, after all. But I soon discovered being the big man in charge meant nothing. Not if I couldn’t have it all. So, I went back to the drawing board, and hatched up this little plan.

My predecessors told me if I ever felt in danger, or ever needed a loyal team to take care of things without conscience or worry about restrictive rules or laws, to call a woman named Sara Callis. And that’s exactly what I did. See, from what I heard, you all were the only ones who could foil my plans. Couldn’t let that happen, now could I?

Your little leader was all too eager to do as I said. Round up her team. Take out the organization. And none of you raised a single question. Not one. Women are weak. Women are delicate and frail.”

“Says the man needing to defend himself against us poor, frail women,” Lavinia spat. “So, you want to rule the world or whatever delusional jerk-off fantasy you’ve got. Sure, fine, whatever. So, why tell us to kill of your little henchmen? Seems counterproductive if you ask me.”

“Well, little girl,” he laughed, not noticing Lavinia narrow her eyes and clench her jaw. Oh, she was going to enjoy pulling out his teeth, one by one. Castration too, if she was feeling particularly adventurous. “It’s simple really, though I wouldn’t expect your pretty little head to figure it out. They knew too much, and I couldn’t begin the next phase with witnesses. It’s unfortunate that I’ll have to work from the ground up, but it won’t be too hard.

Just think what the people will think when I come forward with the news that twenty terrorists have been working closely with Muslim extremists. People in our own government. It could be any one of them. Only one to trust is me. Genius, ain’t it?”

Ida scoffed, rolling her eyes. Of course, McCarthyism. It always seemed to come to that, didn’t it? The President chuckled, taking in their disbelieving looks.

“And you know the best part?” He roared in laugher that time. Without warning, he reared back, slamming the butt of his overkill gun into his Vice President’s head. She crumpled, bleeding profusely. Callis caught her, pulling her body back. The woman lay unconscious, not even granted a fair fight. He ignored their outraged protests, continuing his spiel. “The best part is, I get to pin everything on that dumb bitch right there. Women are so susceptible to corruption, after all. They’ll never trust a woman in power again. Ha!

I’ll let you ladies go now. This room is rigged to blow in exactly six minutes. Oh, and Angie, I’ll give my regards to your little ones.” He turned, mid-laugh. Big mistake. Never threaten a mother. A mother will fight to the end of the earth to save her children. She just will. Surging forward, she threw herself on the President’s back, plunging a syringe into his neck.

He roared, flinging her off. The thin woman flew through the air, crashing painfully against the wall. A sickening crack rang out. But it was already too late. He staggered, struggling to stay upright. But in his anger, he squeezed the trigger. Bullets flew in all directions.

Mars screamed, collapsing to the ground. Ida dragged her to a corner, throwing herself over the other woman. Then, just for a moment, silence as the President dropped his gun beginning to finally succumb to the tranquilizer. Astrid shoved the gun aside, panting. She stared down at the President, sinking back on her haunches. Her eyes widened, seeing him struggling to raise his hand. His very much not-empty hand.

“Astrid, no!” Lavinia lunged, shoving the taller woman away. She screamed, thrown back as the President pulled the trigger. He slumped to the ground, out cold.

“Lavinia!” Astrid shrieked, catching her as she fell. “Oh, god. No. No. No. You’re okay, sweetie. Oh, god. So much blood. Angie! Angie, please. She needs help, please!” Angie slowly shuffled closer, cradling her right arm against her chest. Her breathing hitched, tears prickling in her eyes.

“Fine…I’m…fine,” Lavinia gasped out. “You need to leave…bomb…go!” Weakly, she pushed against Astrid’s arm. “Go.” Astrid shook her head frantically. No way in hell she’d leave Lavinia behind. No fucking way. Callis gripped Astrid’s arm. Lavinia was right. They had to leave now. That bomb could go off at any second, and…and she didn’t know if they could carry Lavinia too. She surveyed her team. Mars’s leg, Angie’s arm. The unconscious Vice President. And she took precedent over all of them. None of them could carry Andrews alone. Twenty years ago, yes. Even Angie would have been able to lift her for a short time. But twenty years of being out of commission meant a few arm days were sacrificed.

“I’m not leaving her, Sara!” Astrid shouted, gripping the small woman tightly. “I won’t. I’m not losing her again. Fuck you! I won’t leave her. She is everything to me, so find another way!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Lavinia said weakly, each work punctuated by a pained gasp. “Please, go. Go. It’s okay. I love you. Go, you idiots.” Callis looked helplessly at her. But Angie pushed herself up, swallowing a pained cry. Her arm definitely was broken, and she’d bet on a concussion as well. But she went to Mars, offering her good hand. Mars nodded, understanding. Forcing herself up with a sharp yell, she leaned against the thin woman and together they headed for the door as quickly as they could. Ida ran to Andrews, grabbing her legs.

“Callis. Sara! Take her arms. We can do this,” Ida said, lifting up. Astrid watched them for a moment, before scooping up the smallest Defender, and breaking out into a sprint. She took the lead, shouting directions as she ran. Ida and Callis managed to haul the dead weight through the tunnels, running on adrenaline. Mars and Angie did their best to keep up. Tears streamed down Mars’s face as she limped along, forcing herself to place weight on her wounded leg. But she didn’t have a choice.

Behind them, an explosion rocked the night. Far enough away that it couldn’t hurt them, Callis and Ida slowed slightly, matching pace with Mars and Angie. But Astrid shouted for them to hurry. And, hearing the terror and panic in her voice, they soldiered on.

By the time they made it to the van, Lavinia looked deathly pale. She needed a hospital. Ida sped down the roads, Mars clutching her hand in a death grip. She looked marginally better than the woman bleeding out in the back, but if they didn’t hurry she’d never walk again. Like a mantra, Astrid kept pleading. With who, she didn’t know.

Callis grabbed Astrid’s bag the moment they entered the van, dumping it out. Then, shoving two tampons towards the front, she shoved the contents back in haphazardly. Tampons and bullet wounds went hand in hand.

Ida skidded into an emergency room, badging her way through. Immediately, surgeons and all manner of medical personnel converged on them. A few froze seeing their Vice President knocked out, blood dripping down her head. But both Callis and Ida shouted for them to hurry. Within moments, they whisked the wounded away, leaving Callis and Ida to bring a hysterical Astrid to a private waiting room.

“She’s going to be fine,” Ida reassured. Enveloping the taller woman in her arms, she suddenly found herself struck by just how small and lost Astrid looked. Always, Astrid had been the strongest of them. Physically, at least. She was the immovable object to Lavinia’s unstoppable force. And the chance that Lavinia might be stopped terrified them all. Astrid “If anyone could survive, it’s her. And Astrid, she loves you. She loves you.”

Astrid tried to smile, but only managed a grimace. If Lavinia didn’t make it…no, no. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Positive thinking. Positive…bullshit. Utter bullshit. No, positive thinking wouldn’t work when thinking of a woman like Lavinia DeLaverie who rejected sunshine and daisies at every single opportunity.

She curled in on herself, sobbing. The stress of the day, coupled with the imminent threat of losing a woman she…of losing Lavinia all may as well have hit her as though a tank rammed her.

“I can’t lose her. I just can’t,” she whimpered. “Oh, god. What if she dies? Ida, she shoved me out of the way. She took a fucking bullet for me. I mean, what they hell was she thinking pulling a stunt like that? Of all the reckless, idiotic, Pidgeon headed, things for her to do. I mean, can you believe her fucking nerve? It was callous, and self-sacrificing, and…and entirely like Lavinia. God, if she dies I swear I’ll kill her myself.”

Hours passed, Angie joining them somewhere around the third, but they heard nothing about Lavinia. The longer they waited, the more despair Astrid felt. But, Angie reminded her, no news was good news. As she said it, chipper tone and all, Angie braced herself for some snarky comment from _someone_. But the women most likely to pounce on the opportunity currently lay on some operating table being prodded and cut open.

A doctor came, updating them on Mars’s condition. Ida swallowed thickly, following the doctor down the hall to see her. Callis, unable to wait much longer, and knowing she was driving Astrid up the wall with her pacing, went to locate a doctor about Lavinia. Oh, and Andrews too.

As she walked down the hall, it hit her. Betty Jane Andrews was now president. A woman president. Christ, what a way for it to happen.

She returned empty handed. No news of Lavinia at all, and the Secret Service barred her from Andrews completely. Grumbling, Callis stood seconds after sitting down. She needed to know. Which meant looking for her van.

Seated behind her computer, she finally felt useful. Hacking a hospital’s security footage and patient data felt like elementary math, especially after today. She checked on Andrews first, knowing that if something happened to Lavinia, she’d never be able to continue. Andrews sat propped up on a mountain of pillows, her head bandaged but otherwise unharmed. She spoke to a plethora of strange people in suits. Callis switched over, satisfied.

“Callis,” a speaker interrupted her illegal surveillance tapping. “They’re going to bring news in a few minutes.” Callis didn’t wait around to see what happened next. She sprinted back just in time to see Astrid arguing with the doctor. Because of course she was.

“Like hell I’m not going in,” Astrid snapped, shoving past him. She stormed through the halls, sending nurses and visitors scattering. The nurse reading off of her clipboard in Lavinia’s room held up her hand, trying to halt Astrid’s trek. “Out!” With wide eyes, the nurse scurried away, muttering under her breath.

Lavinia lay there, out cold. Astrid froze, suddenly unable to breathe all over again. She sank onto a chair at the woman’s bedside, swallowing laboriously. For just a moment, she couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to see the woman she cared about lying in a crisp white hospital bed. Not when she just looked…dead. But no, not dead, Astrid reminded herself, turning her attention to the beeping heart monitor and soft pulse at her limp wrist.

Astrid clung to Lavinia’s hand, so much smaller than her own. Darker too. Absently, she tried to remember which line the life line was. Then, rolling her eyes at her own absurdity, Astrid sarcastically asked herself if she wanted to take a gander at the love line too. Christ, Lavinia needed to get better soon before Astrid went insane.

Footsteps behind her snapped Astrid out of her reverie. Ida, looking drained, passed her a cup of coffee, warning that it tasted horrible.

“How’s Mars,” Astrid asked dully. She did care, really. It was just that, well, Mars could recover from a leg wound, but Lavinia might not come out of this.

“Jorja’s fine,” Ida confirmed. “She’s, well, she’s pretty miffed at being confined to some hospital bed, but they expect her to make a full recovery as long as she lets herself heal.” Which for someone like Mars who never sat still for more than a few moments at a time, meant that it would take a long, long time.

Ida read over the clipboard bearing all the grizzly details. Internal damage, massive blood loss, expired on the…oh. Ida took a calming breath, hands shaking. She didn’t mention just how close to death Lavinia really was. Instead, she set the clipboard down, staring down at the woman in the bed. They’d taken her hair out of its braid. She’d never seen it down before. It seemed wrong to Ida, like she shouldn’t have been privy to such an intimate sight. Feeling like she was intruding, Ida turned to go.

“I suppose I couldn’t convince you to come back to the hotel Callis booked,” she said. Astrid shook her head. She wouldn’t leave her. Not here, or like this. Ida nodded in understanding. She left Astrid alone, wondering if it really was the best thing for her. But then, she supposed if Mars was the one in the bed with the injuries Lavinia had, she’d refuse to move too.

How, Lavinia wondered, alone at last, had it come to this? Just two weeks ago, she’d been griping about utility bills, and paperwork, and certainly didn’t think she’d be reuniting with her old team and fighting domestic terrorists. She never expected to see any of them again. She never expected to pick right back where they left off, sans explosive arguments. And Lavinia.

“Hey, um, Lavinia,” she said, back to feeling ridiculous once more. Lavinia certainly couldn’t hear her. She may as well have been whispering into an abyss. She spoke anyway. “I know you’d probably have a thing or two to say about me talking to an unconscious woman, but I’m not sure I’m brave enough to say it otherwise.

After the fallout all those years ago, I was just so angry. I thought-I thought I must have been in the right. How could anything anyone else said possibly be right when I knew the truth. And for years I convinced myself of that. I told myself that everything I said was the proverbial truth. Of course, we treated Angie like something to be protected. I mean, god, she was just so emotionally invested, and breakable. I didn’t think to recognize that there were countless ways to be brave and capable than just what the rest of us did.

And Mars, I thought that my screaming her out for being a callous and immature child made me better. And Ida’s superior complex. And Callis’s attachment to machines. All of it I justified. And you.

For so long I convinced myself I hated you most of all. That you were the worst of them all, and I hated your stubbornness, your willingness to get the job done by all means necessary. But, I realized that I was wrong. I don’t know exactly when I knocked some sense into myself, but I just know that when I saw you standing there with Angie in zip ties, I felt…I felt like I could do it. Like I could do whatever I needed to do.

And I’m not making much sense, I know. God, I’m monologuing at your bedside while you lay there possibly dying. As if I couldn’t get any more pathetic. Almost glad you aren’t awake to see me so completely and utterly…yeah. I guess, I’m trying to say…I love you too. And I want you to wake up so I can actually say it. Please?”

“I suppose just this once.” Astrid jolted, nearly knocking herself over in shock. Staring at her with tired eyes, Lavinia smiled weakly, lifting her head. “I did warn you back in the day that I never let it be known I’m awake until after I’ve assessed my surroundings. Now, what were you saying?” Lavinia’s head sunk back into the pillow. For all her teasing bravado, she looked ready to drop off again. So, without arguing or snarking back, Lavinia repeated herself again, and again.

The hospital discharged Mars the next day, and Ida brought her back to the house the now-President graciously offered them to use as a convalescing facility for the next few weeks. As Callis reported when visiting Lavinia who still had a few days to go before being freed, just trying to keep Mars from walking around and setting herself back a week took most of Ida’s energy. Even Angie refused to be a good patient, too used to mothering everything and everyone.

“You sure you don’t want to come back to the house for even just a shower or something?” Callis said, pointedly. “Seriously, Astrid. She’s out of danger, and you’re no use if you’re exhausted and kind of smell. I can wait here if you want.” Sighing, Astrid slowly nodded, leaving Callis to keep watch.

Lavinia blinked at her, muttering that she didn’t need a babysitter. Callis rolled her eyes, flopping into Astrid’s vacated seat.

“Trust me, hon,” she said, yawning. “This is a break, so don’t bother me. I’m gonna take a nice nap.” Lavinia laughed, her own eyes fluttering shut.

The day Lavinia arrived at the proffered house, the newly sworn-in President came to pay them a call. She thought it only fair to give them an update on what was happening out there.

“We did a full cover-up,” she said. “My people thought it best _not_ to raise alarm, thus avoiding the intended suspicion and fear mongering. The official story was that an alt-right militia kidnapped the late President and myself, as well as massacring all those officials. We spun the President into a hero. He may have been a bastard, but no use sending the public into a panic over the leader of the free world. We kept you all out of the story. I’m sorry you’ll be getting no glory or fame.”

Callis waved that away. The last thing they all wanted was glory and fame. They didn’t do this for thanks or reward. They did it because they had a duty to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Any chance you’d be willing to be reinstated into your former positions for more than just this one gig?” Andrews asked. They looked at each other. At Mars who sat with her leg propped up. At Angie with her arm in a sling, who just wanted to see her kids again. At Ida who now sat one step closer to FBI director. At Lavinia and Astrid who kept their hands tightly clasped together. At Callis. Their leader. She stepped forward, speaking for them all.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sure we’d all be willing to return once in a blue moon for a particularly difficult case, but our reunion tour is coming to an end. No use dredging up the past to form some shadow of a thing. We’re…we’ve got other lives to get back to, and children, and jobs. We’re going to have to respectfully decline.”

Andrews nodded as though she’d expected this response. Wishing them all well, she departed. The new weight curling around her shoulders throughout their meeting swiftly vanished as she stepped out; once more ever the poised politician.

“I suppose you’re headed out today, Angie,” Callis remarked, stretching out on the couch. Angie nodded. After everything, she just wanted to go home to see her children again. Her plane left in a few hours.

“You saved us all, Ang,” Astrid said, extending her hand. “No chance we’ll ever forget that. Keep in touch, okay?” Angie nodded, smiling. And then there were five.

Tomorrow, Ida would ask Mars to come home to Virginia with her. Strictly to keep an eye on her leg, of course. Nothing else, obviously. Tomorrow, when Ida asks, Mars will emphatically agree. It wouldn’t be anything untoward, or – god-forbid – sentimental. Just practicality.

The next day after that, they’d head off together in the early morning light. Mars would hesitantly flirt, growing bolder the more Ida tried not to smile at her antics. Mars would stay while her leg healed. Then, days after Mars could have easily left for her own home in Connecticut, Ida would ask her to stay. Simply for economic reasons, of course, she’d reason with only a slight waver in her voice. Mars – now Jorja just for her – would nod her head thoughtfully. They’d both drive up to pack Mars’s old house up, riffling through mementos, and picking apart Mars’s old life. Then, they’d end up getting rid of most of it anyway.

Months later, Ida would ask Jorja to marry her. Purely for tax reasons, of course. Mars would nod sensibly, but the secret smile they would share would tell a different story. They’d sign the paperwork in a courthouse, neither wanting any sort of fuss. Ida would wear the violet silk blouse Jorja was so fond of, and Jorja would don an emerald green dress that showed off just the right amount of cleavage to make Ida flush. And of course, they’d invite the Defenders of the Earth – that settled it; twenty somethings shouldn’t ever name anything – to be their witnesses.

Neither Mars nor Ida knew any of this as Mars propped her leg up on the coffee table, smirking pointedly at Callis who sighed dramatically.

Tomorrow, Callis would accept another offer from the CIA to lend her skills to their people overseas. She’d be forced to sever contact with her newly reunited friends, heading deep under-cyber-ground. Tomorrow, she’d pack up her most prized tech pieces, and board a plane for Djibouti, from there, several ships, another plane, and a bus, not necessarily in that order.

A week later, she’d be fully set up doing the one thing she hoped and dreamed of as a young child growing up in a small town in Maine. Seated behind her computer screen, her fingers would fly across the keyboard at top speed. She’d uncover mysteries, and crimes, and plots. Bringing justice to the world was all she’d ever wanted, be it in the form of a morally ambiguous secret domestic defense team, or an overseas rules-be-damned gig, fighting wars and battles from the comforts of a dark room, machines humming with life. She’d improve, and invent, and upgrade her computers with pride.

Then, months after she’d arrive, the one thing she loved more than anything else would be used against her, exploding and painting the night with light and sound. She’d be sent home, a shell of a woman with fingers that would never ever work like they used to, and burned out eyes that would pain her to the end of days. And for the first time, she’d be at a loss. Her greatest joy cruelly out of reach.

But Callis could never be stopped by something like that. After a few weeks of moping about, Lavinia will hit some sense into her, and she’ll adapt to fit her needs. And soon enough, she’ll be just as good, if not better, at her most beloved pastime

But, as she shoved a pillow under Mars’s foot, she didn’t know any of that.

By tomorrow, Angie would be back at home, preparing lunches for her kids and wondering just what the hell she’d tell them. But, they believed her about the tooth fairy, and they believed her about Santa Clause, so simply explaining that she’d gone to meet up with some old friends, and there’d been an accident would seemingly work just fine.

She’d return to her life of office work, and sleepovers, and nothing at all dangerous or particularly blood pumping. Just the way she liked it. Dipping her toes in the lake of danger and heartache seemed fun for a while, but as she relaxed near her pool with the family dog curled up on her stomach, she’d think this life seemed far more compatible.

But, as she stood in line for the airport security check, watching as the Muslim woman in front of her was “randomly selected” for a search, she wondered if perhaps she should have stayed after all.

Tomorrow, Lavinia and Astrid would sit down to have a serious conversation about their future. They’d temper their…ah, tempers, and speak like two rational adults. Laying out their insecurities and admitting their faults, they’d both refuse to meet each other’s eye. But in time, the two women would take off to see the world.

Tomorrow, they’d send in their resignations, taking just the essentials to jet off and explore every continent including Antarctica. Not caring about comfort or luxury, they’d stay in the most questionable of hostiles, occasionally fighting off would-be assailants.

Eventually, they’d tire of wandering, finally settling down in the city where they both grew up. They’d set up their own business, and always having financial stability. They’d make love on every surface of their tiny apartment, causing rows with the neighbors who didn’t care for the two lesbians next door to be so noisy in their endeavors. Which, fair.

Living together would come so much more easily than either woman would have anticipated. Lavinia would do the laundry, and Astrid the dishes. They’d share the tiny closet with little overlap: Astrid on the top rung, Lavinia on the lower one. They’d take turns cooking, and make compromises whenever possible. Lavinia would have a tiny garden on the balcony, and Astrid a mini bar in the living room. They’d respect, after a fashion, each other’s organization systems, eventually coming to adapt aspects until they would find something just right.

They’d argue with each other. Obviously, they’d argue. Disagreements would crop up as easily as weeds, but they never lasted long, and after a few moments, both women would take deep breaths, and start anew. But more calmly. More understanding. And though they’d never tie the knot like Ida and Mars, they’d stay together to their dying days.

But, curled up against each other on the couch, watching Mars and Callis go back and forth about having feet on the coffee table, injury be dammed, neither woman cared to think about what tomorrow would bring, much less four or five decades.

Wherever it was they ended up; on an airplane, in a shared house, across the Atlantic, traveling the world, it didn’t matter right then. It didn’t matter, as Callis opened up her laptop, that in a few short years, she’d spend twenty-seven long days in a haze of despair. It didn’t matter, as Lavinia drew Astrid in for a searing kiss leaving them both breathless before Mars cheerfully reminded them they couldn’t engage in any strenuous activity, that they’d have time for that for the rest of their lives. It didn’t matter, as Angie arrived home with her children in tow and a new vigor about her, that the next time the Defenders came calling she’d go without hesitation. It didn’t matter, as Ida dozed off on Mars’s shoulder much to the others’ amusement, that they’d be married within the year.

No. Alive and relatively well, none of that mattered at all. At the end of a case, at the end of a moment, when at last their harrowing chapter of terrorism ended, the Defenders of the Earth, ridiculous name and all, kicked back and just relaxed. They hadn’t let themselves relax the entire time.

“Hey, Ida,” Mars said, smugness dripping from her voice. “Bet even injured I can outshoot you any day of the week. Ida narrowed her eyes playfully. Truthfully, Mars probably spoke the truth, but Ida would never tell her that.

If the neighbors were scared about the gunshots they heard next door, well, that certainly wasn’t the only thing they had to be scared about regarding the people over the hedge. And really, that’s just how the Defenders of the Earth, stupid name and all, liked it.


End file.
